The few seconds that followed passed in a blur, literally. Elise could only see glimpses of Arno's face as he cut down each and every raider — ignoring their pleas of
mercy, their cries of surrender; he plowed through their ranks, completely ignoring the flashing swords and iron projectiles that never seemed to even scratch him, while
his axe and his swords landed lethal blow after blow.
But all this, all this bloodshed and power did not intimidate Elise, or scare her. Instead, it was the few glimpses of Arno's eyes that made her heart rise into her throat —
eyes that were dark, angry, and merciless. Eyes that held no regret or flicker as he killed one man after another, no hesitation or flinch as he cut down men on their
knees, already begging for mercy. And at this moment, Elise realized something. The man who had held and supported her while no one else did, who had snuck into
parties and bedrooms to meet her, had gone, and left with the boy who had stolen cookies and holy apples.
—LINE BREAK—
Cole stood amongst the last rank of the raiders. But he wasn't moving to run from, or attack the Assassin that had somehow cut through three quarters of their ranks.
He stood perfectly still, watching, and listening. His father had sent him, both to watch over France's growth and recovery from its revolution, and an Assassin his father
refused to name. It had frustrated him, having a father who tried to make every moment educational or beneficial in some way, but that didn't matter any longer.
Because this Assassin, Arno Dorian, seemed to fit his father's descriptions pretty well.
Another Short Chapter, Sorry :(
